Diane Amendt Memorial Scholarship for the Arts

Coming into a new school as an eager-eyed middle schooler is not for the weak. Especially if the school is New Jersey’s top private K-12 program, and the middle schooler is a low-income Black girl from a single-parent household. It’s pretty safe to say I had a rough adjustment. But as someone with big dreams to be on a Broadway stage, I never wavered. When I heard I would be required to take a dance class, I was overjoyed. Dance had become too expensive for my mother, so I had to quit. Being able to continue in any way sounded like a dream. Enter Ms. Wheeler, the grumpy old dance teacher whom the older kids warned me about. Coming from a studio where every instructor fit that description, I was prepared for the worst. What I found instead was one of the most kindhearted and eccentric women I’ve ever met, who shaped me not only as a dancer but as a human. Going through her first class was a challenge. Her curriculum was built heavily on physical connection and playing with movement, which is a 12-year-old boy’s worst nightmare. On top of that, her tendencies to trail off, rant, and very severely reprimand sealed her reputation as one of the “worst teachers.” People often tried to mess with her, play mean tricks, or just straight up ignore her instructions. It was honestly painful to watch. In some ways, I related to her. Being an oddball is a target on your back, and it’s hard to share your passion with people who are convinced you have nothing interesting to offer. Personally, I loved her class. With the little background in dance I had, I was able to slip into my most authentic self, achieving movement in new ways. That fluidity spilled into my stage work, turning me into a proficient actor. Thanks to the building blocks her class provided, I was not only equipped to survive a dance call, but I also became recognized as a phenomenal actor and performer, even going on to win awards for my performances. As I transitioned to high school, I saw her less and less, limited to her occasional choreography days (which everyone but me dreaded). Even though she wasn’t as involved in the shows, I found ways to connect with her. I started a dance team and had her come in to watch and critique. I volunteered to help with the middle school shows, turning into a choreographer and stage manager all in one. I even assumed Dance Captain roles for the high school plays and musicals, using my comfort with movement to create scenes and choreography that has also won me awards. And she continued to support me as well. She would always send me videos and fun techniques to further my understanding of movement. She was there to listen as my mom got sicker and sicker. She was at her funeral. And when I somehow survived to see the end of my senior year, she awarded me one of the most special gifts I’ve ever received: The SawZolli Dance Award, a school recognition for someone’s exceptionalism in dance. This meant so much, as a girl who was self-taught in an industry where everyone had access to years of formal classes. She taught me that my dreams can always be achieved, no matter my background. I continue to work hard at dance as a BFA Musical Theatre student. I may be a step behind, but it’s no matter. I know she has set me up for greatness better than any other professor could.

Dancing has always been a way for me to cope with hardships, allowing me to express myself in a way that transcends words and helps me feel present in my own body and reality. Throughout elementary and middle school, when I felt like I had no control over my life, a simple tendu combination at the ballet barre would put me in complete control of my body. When there was no one I could talk to, I would channel and process my emotions by improvising alone in my room. When my life at school and at home were unpredictable and unsupportive, I would go to my dance studio and put my all into Ms. Christine's fun, sassy hip-hop class to make me feel a little better. I remember when Ms. Christine first showed up at my dance studio when I was 8 years old. I had taken ballet and modern classes for years, but she was the person who first introduced me to jazz, hip-hop, tap, and musical theatre. As she taught us how to do kicks and leaps across the floor, I felt my worries melt away, like this was what I was meant to do. I wasn’t great when I started out, but I listened to every correction she gave in class and applied it with the utmost focus, wanting to do the very best version of a saut de chat or a paradiddle. She taught us combinations ranging from the energetic and precise “Carrying the Banner” from Newsies to the sassy jazz of Beyoncé’s “Crazy in Love”, opening my world to the possibilities of what dance could be. Ms. Christine also started our studio’s competition team, where we were told to call her by her full name "Christine Dent" when asked who choreographed our dances. Attending competitions allowed me to watch dancers outside of my studio for the first time, and I was amazed and inspired by the technique and artistry of the dancers whom I competed against, and became hungrier than ever to improve my skills. Ms. Christine encouraged me along every step of the way, even when I felt I wasn’t good enough and thought I would never be able to pursue dance. She choreographed the audition solo that got me into my performing arts high school, where during my 4 years I grew a love for concert dance. Then, in my senior year, she choreographed a musical theatre solo that I used to audition for colleges, and I also self-choreographed a contemporary solo. When I was accepted into both concert and commercial-focused college dance programs and not sure which I wanted to pursue, talking with Ms. Christine helped me realize that my true dreams lay in the commercial dance world. She reminded me of the 8-year-old me who dreamt of performing on Broadway, touring with pop stars, and dancing on TV. So, through Ms. Christine’s suggestion, I committed to a BFA in Commercial Dance from the Boston Conservatory. Now, I’ve finished my first semester at BoCo, and it has been amazing: I've trained in a wide variety of styles, performed onstage with future superstars from Berklee College of Music, learned how to navigate professional auditions, and choreographed my own commercial works. I even did my first paid dance job, choreographing a full musical production of Mean Girls, and I called Ms. Christine to help negotiate my hourly rate. Thanks to Ms. Christine, I feel more so now than ever that my dreams are within reach and that I’m on the path to making them a reality.

Growing up through foster care, abusive homes, bullying and being low income was a thing but easy. However, I was able to find second home in the theatre, a home that took me as I was and found a place for me. It allowed me to feel useful, wanted, and talented. In my first production, a parody of Sleeping Beauty including Elvis Presley, I played Beauty's loveable sidekick, a sweet puppy who is always wanting to play. I didn't realize it at the time but that first production lead me to realize that I loved theatre. I later took on roles such as the Genie in Aladdin, Highschool Girl in Tracks, Leopold in Luchadora!, and lead roles in several self or group written plays that were preformed for audiences and competitions. When I'm not on stage I'm working behind the scenes, being useful in multiple departments. I've been a lighting designer and light board operator, spotlight operator, sound board operator, stage manager, and makeup captain. Some of these roles such as lighting designer, stage manager, light board operator and makeup captain I've held multiple times. My favorite role I've held is being stage manager for The Addams Family Musical at my school. I've also been apart of props crew, makeup crew, and costume crew without holding any leadership positions. All of these roles allowed me to build skills in the theatre arts, skills that I will one day use in the real world and in college. This last year I've grown tremendously as an actor and technician. This is all thanks to my current theatre director who I will call Mrs. R. When I first transferred to this school in the last quarter of my junior year, I was put into her general theatre class. When I discussed wanting to join a production she suggested putting me into one of her "real" theatre classes. The general theatre class was for students looking to fulfill their arts credit but not interested in acting or tech. She had just moved to this school and the theatre department was filled with a small group of individuals and the department's goal for the year was just to get by. I was moved to the technical class and immediately started taking on jobs, first a spotlight operator for a musical then a lighting designer for a dance performance and more. I was excited and wanted to do everything I could. Mrs. R could see that I loved theatre with my whole heart, and she supported me. She kept allowing me to be a sponge and soak up the experiences. When it came time to apply to colleges I sought her advice on what programs were the best fit for me. Knowing my passion to do anything and everything theatre she suggested the Johnston Program at the University of Redlands. This program allowed me to build my own major and take classes from any department I wanted without restrictions to major. I could pursue acting, technical theatre, dancing, and singing to grow my craft and learn skills to help my future students. It was the perfect fit for me. Mrs. R gave me a place in her theatre, allowed me to grow my craft, and connected me with a way to grow my craft even more, she's pushed me and helped me more than words can say.